


Words On Paper

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Invitation, M/M, Notes, PWP, Sherlock's Guilty Pleasure, surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: Words on paper cause a bit of a shake up at 221B Baker Street.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> We aim to update once a month, usually on the Friday closest to the 1st. All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. We've got quite a few stories, and we invite you to get lost in them. **To keep up with our new stories, we hope you'll subscribe.**
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside. If you've got any story ideas, feel free to share them.
> 
> Thanks for reading and for being a great community!

John let himself into the flat quickly, the wind more annoying than anything. He hoped the Chinese hadn't gone too cold. He fussed his hair a bit to fix it from the walk before making his way upstairs. The door was closed, and there was an envelope taped to the front right at his eye level. He tugged it down and let himself in. 

"Sherlock? I brought dinner!" he called before he hung his coat and opened the envelope curiously.

_John, you're lived here quite a while now. You are, as you know, my best friend. My only friend. At first, I thought it rather unusual that we've come together like this, but now I know there's a reason why I chose you. It's because you are an ideal companion._

John's brow furrowed. "Sherlock?" he called out again. He moved into the sitting room and saw another note on the coffee table. He picked it up and opened it quickly.

_I suppose there are many different types of friendship. You are friends with Lestrade, but that friendship is not like ours. You are friends with Molly, but that friendship is not like ours. I am only friends with you. Your friendship serves all purposes to me, because you are every kind of friend to me. I wonder if you feel the same._

John looked around the sitting room, more confused than ever. As he turned, there was another envelope on a pillow on Sherlock's chair. "What is happening?" he asked softly, moving to open the next one.

_I believe some friends even have sex with each other. Have you heard of that? I wonder if that's something you might be interested in. With me. Have you ever thought about having sex with me, your best friend? Would you be interested in coming into my room right now and trying that? Perhaps it could be a new part of our friendship._

John stared at the note, his mind replaying the words over and over. Would he like to have sex with Sherlock Holmes? He looked towards Sherlock's room. He couldn't deny Sherlock was handsome. He had tried to figure out his chances when they first met, but that was a while ago. Maybe it had been too soon; of course, it had been. Sherlock was so picky with people -- there's no way he would have even considered that then. Was Sherlock really considering it now? John put the note down and headed to Sherlock's room. They should talk. 

He knocked on the door and let himself in. "Sherlock?"

"If you are interested in my offer, come in but no talking," Sherlock said. "If you are not interested, please step back, shut the door and I will be out later."

John licked his lips, hesitating in the doorway. He glanced at Sherlock, stepped in, and shut the door behind him.

"So the answer is yes?" Sherlock asked.

"I came in, like you asked," he nodded. 

"Then come over to the bed," Sherlock said. He was underneath the covers but pulled the blankets on the other side down, as an invitation. "Take off your clothes."

John tugged off his jumper as he walked. Was this going to be clinical, like an experiment? He didn't ask. He wanted to see what happened. When everything was off, he climbed into the bed, trying to peek at Sherlock.

"I'm already nude," Sherlock said quietly. He reached over and held John's arm. "Kissing too, all right?" 

John nodded, turning to face Sherlock. He leaned close and kissed his mouth softly. Sherlock gripped John's arm as he melted into the kiss, deepening it instantly as his tongue felt for John's. John opened his mouth and followed his lead, licking out to deepen the kiss. He moved his body closer. Sherlock pressed against him, letting his hand move from John's arm to his lower back, pulling them ever closer together. His other hand moved to underneath John's head, his fingers getting lost in his hair.

The touch woke something in John. How long had he been curious about those dark curls? He brought his hand up and buried it in the soft rings, curling his fingers to grip lightly as they kissed. And his chest . . . those buttons were always straining on Sherlock's shirt and now he would get to touch the reason why. But he had to slow down. Hair first. 

Sherlock moaned into the kiss. It felt good, John's fingers in his hair. Almost as intimate as the kiss. "Yes" escaped from his throat and got lost in John's mouth.

John tugged once more at his hair before taking his hand away. He pushed at the covers and rested his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, sliding it down over his chest slowly.

"Everywhere," Sherlock mumbled into the kiss, his hand moving up and down John's back.

John started kissing along Sherlock's jaw and neck as his hand grazed over muscles and then over hardened nipples. Sherlock pushed away the rest of the covers so he could press right against John's nude body. The warm skin touching his sent a shiver through him, and he bucked his hips lightly against John's.

"That's perfect. So good . . ." John murmured, sliding his hand lower. He moved over Sherlock's hip and around to lightly grip his cock, stroking as they kissed again.

"Fuck," Sherlock called when he felt John's touch. He reached around to hold John, feeling the heat as he moved his hand up and down the shaft.

"You feel so good," John said, wondering if Sherlock had ever been touched like this before.

"Taste," Sherlock mumbled as he pushed John onto his back and climbed over him. He kissed his mouth hard again and then began moving slowly down his body, covering his chest with kisses, sucking at his nipples. Then he shifted lower, squeezing John's thigh as he pushed his legs apart. He held John's cock and nuzzled the end before covering it with his mouth as he began to suck.

John lifted his head to watch Sherlock migrate along his body, his breath coming faster and faster. He opened his legs for Sherlock and called out softly when he saw that mouth around him. He reached down and gripped his hair again.Sherlock moaned with John's touch. He slowed his own movements, feeling John's shape against his lips and swirling his tongue to taste him. John arched off of the bed as he struggled to keep his hips still. Sherlock was moving slow, a wonderfully torturous pace. He couldn't stop looking at those lips around him.

Sherlock could feel his movement slowly rocking the bed. His body was filled with so much urge. After a few moments, he lifted his head and dropped to the mattress beside John. "I need you," he said softly as he slowly stroked himself in anticipation.

John moved over Sherlock, kissing him as he settled his knees. "I want to taste you too," he said, making his way down Sherlock's neck towards his chest.

"Please," Sherlock whined, stretching his hand down to hold John's shoulder.

John pressed kisses across his chest and stomach, moving lower. He licked a long stripe up the shaft, swirling around the head before sucking Sherlock into his mouth.

"Fuck," Sherlock said, lifting himself up off the bed. He glanced down but had to lay back because the sight was too much. "That feels good. . ." he exhaled as he lifted an arm to cover his face.

John bobbed up and down, his tongue flicking out at the tip each time he came up. 

"John --" Sherlock called loudly. "I can't take it. . . " He reached over to the table and grabbed the bottle of lube he'd sat there next to a box of condoms. "Please. . ." he said as he pushed the things down the bed.

John pulled off and took the bottle, sitting up and scooting closer to Sherlock. He poured lube on his fingers and a bit on Sherlock. "You're gorgeous," he mumbled, pushing one finger into Sherlock.

"Slow," Sherlock whispered, his hand moving to stroke himself as John entered his body. "Yes," he moaned, pushing his head back against the pillow. John moved his finger slowly, looking up at Sherlock. His free hand traced up Sherlock's stomach and chest, admiring every inch of him. 

"It feels good," Sherlock mumbled, rocking his hips with John's movement. "More . . ."

John nodded and gently added a second finger. He pumped them both, spreading them to open Sherlock.

"God, it's hot in here," Sherlock exhaled as he ran his hand over his face. He looked up at John. "Kiss," he said as he reached up.

John leaned down and kissed him hard, licking into his mouth as he curved his fingers to touch Sherlock's prostate. 

Sherlock moaned into the kiss. His breath was ragged and his heart pounding. "Please . . ." he said, looking into John's eyes.

John nodded, glancing down to see his progress. He pulled his fingers out slowly and rolled on the condom. He leaned over Sherlock and kissed him as he pressed against him and then slowly pushed inside.

"God," Sherlock called out loudly as he grabbed at John, wrapping his arms around his back and pulling him close. He hungrily kissed his mouth as their bodies began to rock on the bed.

John kissed him breathlessly. "You're so tight . . . fuck . . ." he moaned, moving his hips in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Just -- don't stop," Sherlock huffed. His hands moved up and down John's body, before one slid between their bodies and he began to stroke himself. John swore softly and buried into Sherlock's neck, his hips moving faster, a bit harder now.

Sherlock was panting, barely able to think or breathe. "I'm going to come, John," he gasped as his cock spilled out over his hand.

Sherlock's body squeezed around John, making him growl softly in the nape of Sherlock's neck. He bit softly before he came, moaning Sherlock's name.

Sherlock slipped his hands back around John, holding him as they returned to their senses. John's face stayed buried against his neck, each heavy breath filled with Sherlock's scent. 

"Shift over," Sherlock said softly. "I'm burning up."

John pressed a kiss on the crook of his neck before moving off of him. He disposed of the condom and lay facing the ceiling. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Sherlock said, shifting gingerly to sit up a bit in the bed. "Are you?"

John nodded. "Yeah." He smiled and looked over at Sherlock. He was still trying to process that they had really just done that.

Sherlock looked down at his stomach. "Can you hand me a tissue? There's some in the drawer," he said. "Or I could use your jumper."

"I don't think so," John grinned, rolling over to get the tissues. He opened the drawer and paused. "Um . . ." He handed Sherlock the pack with out turning around. Then he lifted out a book -- a cheesy, Mills & Boon-type romance book. There were a few of them in the drawer. "What's this all about?" he asked, grinning stupidly.

"What?" Sherlock turned to look. "That? Nothing, it's nothing. Research, I mean, it's research. For a case. From a long time ago. It's stupid, you can throw it away." He pulled on the sheet, covering himself and sliding down the bed a bit.

"It's not! Look how worn the spine is!"

"Shut up," Sherlock said. "It's not -- it doesn't matter. So what? Just put it away or throw it away, just -- stop talking about it."

"Do you like to read these?" John asked, still grinning. 

Sherlock rolled over away from John. "Sometimes," he confessed quietly.

John's smile softened. "Yeah?" He put the book down and lay down. "I'm surprised. But there's nothing wrong with a guilty pleasure."

"It's just -- well, it's stupid. I mean it's not really like us but . . .it's just . . ." Sherlock said, a bit embarrassed by it all.

John bit his lip, suddenly understanding what all of this was about. "Do you pretend it's us, when you read?" he asked softly.

"I don't know. Maybe," Sherlock said. "I mean, there are sometimes mysteries . . ." his voice trailed off.

"That's really sweet," John said, rubbing Sherlock's back.

"It is not," Sherlock said grumpily. He pushed back against John's hand a bit. "I guess that's where I got the idea. . . you know, about sex."

"Your notes were sweet too," John said, rubbing Sherlock's back.

"Well, I can sometimes be sweet, you know," Sherlock said. "I just hide it well."

"Is this something you'd want to keep doing with me?" John asked. 

Sherlock turned over quickly. "You didn't like it?" he asked.

"I did, very much. I'm asking because I'd like to do it again."

"Right now?"

"If you want, but I meant in general," John said. "From now on."

"All right," Sherlock said. "I mean, in general. I don't know if I could do it again right away," he added with a little smile.

John smiled back. "That's fine."

"So it can be part of our friendship? I mean, we'll just do this as well as the other things we do, right?" Sherlock asked.

"Right, but we'll be more than friends."

"Whatever," Sherlock said. "I just mean we'll be like we are . . . I like how we are . . . but this as well, yeah? Also I was wondering. . . in the books, I mean . . . you can stay in here a while if you'd like."

John grinned, cupping Sherlock's cheek and then petting back into his hair. "I would like to stay and sleep with you," he said. "Scoot closer so we can cuddle." 

Sherlock slid over and kind of put his arm around him awkwardly. "You are my best friend, you know," he said softly as he tried to snuggle in a little.

"You're my best friend too," he said, tucking Sherlock close and pulling the covers over them both.


End file.
